


Savage

by Dr_D_Fox



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Blood Kink, F/M, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, bandits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-15 05:30:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13606557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_D_Fox/pseuds/Dr_D_Fox
Summary: Savage.It was the word that would be seared into his mind, leaving a scar just as bold as the ones he was sure her nails were leaving down his back, and one he would wear just as proudly.





	Savage

Savage.

It was the label he gave her when they’d first met- uncultured, wildling, dismissed beyond a short-term usefulness in hunting bandits.

Savage.

It was the only word he could find to describe the way she leapt upon the bandit leader at that first camp- agile, ferocious, utterly brutal and efficient in her methods of dispatching a powerful enemy in a spray of blood.

Savage.

It was what he imagined he’d do to her, but found himself on the receiving end instead- mauled, bloodied, snarling in pain and pleasure as her teeth found purchase at the juncture of his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist.

It was the word that would be seared into his mind, leaving a scar just as bold as the ones he was sure her nails were leaving down his back, and one he would wear just as proudly.

 

* * *

 

When Nil had first met the little huntress, it had been on his way to what the natives called “Devil’s Thirst.” The bandit camp there was fairly new, but already wreaking havoc on the people in the surrounding area. He’d invited the girl along mostly as an easy distraction for the bandits, but also because she’d been so bold in her approach. Not thinking much about her potential, he realized that he’d underestimated her when he saw her make the first kill. She’d stalked her prey from the deep shadows, watching, waiting, with the patience to outmatch any Hunter, lashing out with near perfect precision- her spear efficiently piercing the man’s throat to both prevent him from raising an alarm, and ensure a swift death. She’d pulled the body into the grass, not even flinching as she yanked her spear out and was splashed with blood. This was not the first time she’d killed another human, and that intrigued Nil.

They’d moved through the camp silently, nearly invisible, catching their prey unaware until the last moment. When she went towards the camp alarm, Nil was surprised to see her sound it instead of destroy it, standing under the sparking fire like a summoned demon. His face must have betrayed his own surprise, because she gave him a grim smile and said calmly, “I would rather the rest of the worms come out of their holes on their own, instead of digging for them later.”

There was sound logic in that, he just hadn’t expected it. Nor had he expected her to be as efficient fighting their enemies head-on as she had been from the shadows. She blazed like the midday sun, fiery hair whipping around her with every twirl and leap. Where before she was the silent Stalker, now she was the roaring Sawtooth, lashing out at each target with a ferociousness that took his breath away- almost literally when he found himself more distracted than he should have been and was knocked prone by one of the bandits. Forcing his mind back to the task at hand, he made up for his momentary distraction by killing three of the worms in quick succession, his knife finding the soft vitals on each of them before he leapt away to attack the other- leaving them to bleed out behind him.

It was on that last bandit, though, the leader of the whole gang, that Nil found himself truly in awe. Covered in blood and sweat, snarling with determination to kill, the girl leaped through the air from the ramp she’d been standing on and landed, spear first, on her victim. The man was twice her size and had likely seen ten times more battles, but he could not stand against the burning power that she radiated. The moment seemed to run in slow motion, her graceful arc through the air, his too slow attempt to swing his massive weapon into place, the spear- with her bodies full weight behind it- piercing through his chest, and the slow spray of blood that coated them both as they fell. It was the most beautiful thing Nil had ever seen. He found himself wishing that there were more, just so he could watch her do it again and again.

So, when the camp was cleared she was busy releasing the prisoners, Nil returned to the rise he’d first waited for her on, and watched from afar. He’d underestimated her before; he would not make the same mistake again. He watched as she cleaned her weapons with pride and care. He watched as she washed her armor and skin in the nearby stream, unflinching at the mess. He watched as she greeted the other Nora, come to claim the defensible camp as their own, with a gentleness at odds with the vicious killer she had been earlier that night. He watched as she helped drag the bodies to a pyre and looted the corpses with careful efficiency before they burned. He watched, and he waited. By morning, her chores done, she finally came to him.

As they spoke, he was surprised by the evident disgust she had for his enthusiasm. He’d expected her to be a kindred spirit. In fact, there was no way that she wasn’t- perhaps she just felt the need to hide it…Perhaps she was… ashamed? Was that the word? No, something else held her back. Not honor, perhaps, but close. Ah, a mystery that he couldn’t solve with the sharp edge of his mind or his blade. How fascinating! Still, he couldn’t help but tease her, testing the waters a little, and telling her in no short words that they would meet again. He wasn’t sure if it was fear, or anticipation that he saw flash in her eyes, but both were equally intriguing- in their own ways, of course.

When he’d told her that they would know each other by their work, he had thought that she would find his work first, but when he arrived at the next maggoty pile, it was to a camp cleared out of any enemy and bustling with people already hoping to take advantage of the encampment. Waiting until night fell, he slipped into the little fort and looked around for clues. Here- a section of grass pressed down from a crouched form. There- a splash of blood, painted across the wall of a shack like a mural to the deadly dance that had taken place. Ah, and tucked away in one corner, as if placed just for him, was a single curled machine wire in a pool of blood. He could almost see her hesitate, wanting to leave a mark for him but that feeling of shame/honor making her wonder if she should lay claim at all… Machine hunter, turned man hunter. How delicious.

In response, he laid waste to the next camp he caught wind of. He painted the ground with their blood and decorated the walkways with their corpses. Oh, nothing so vulgar as to actually drag bodies around- he let them fall naturally and the blood came with the work, of course. There was purpose to his movements though, beyond the thrill of the hunt and the joy of a well-made kill- he was leaving her a message, a reply. Look at my work, look at what we can do together. When he finished, panting heavily and covered in the marks of his effort, he pulled a single red feather from his headdress and stuck it proudly in the ground beside the first kill. Admiring for a moment, he left to find the next trail, and wait.

It became a sort of game for them, one that he was pleased to find she seemed to be playing with more enthusiasm. Sometimes it was simply a band of traveling marauders, sometimes it was an entire camp. Once, it was a group of Shadow Carja that she left him, and that intrigued him more than the others. On rare occasion, they actually managed to meet at the same place and time, and would hunt together, as they had that first night. He’d even tracked her once, following her at a distance for three days as she moved through the world, killing machine and man alike if they got in her way. He noticed a pattern forming though, and wondered if she would even acknowledge it. When he’d first met her, she seemed to kill nearly any machine she could, but avoid any unnecessary killing of human life. Now, she only killed those machines that attacked her first- but bandits and thugs? It seemed that their little game pulled out the best in her, and she killed with that savage ferocity he’d observed the first night mixed heavily with a pleasure that he knew only he could see.

It was at the Shattered Kiln that it all came to head. He had arrived ahead of her- if the camp being intact was anything to go by, and picking the road that was along her most likely route, he settled in for the long rest.

*

Night was just approaching- the sun painting the sky red as if heralding the coming battle- when he heard the distinctive rumble of machine hooves galloping down the road. Rousing him from a shallow nap, he slowly stood and stretched, just as the girl arrived, “Mm, I waited for you.” He felt his spine pop as he rolled his arms back, “Time passing pulls the anticipation tight as a wire.” Feeling almost instantly awake, he sighed, pleased to be started, “Ah, how many has it been now?”

She gave him an odd look, shaking her head, “I don’t keep count, Nil.”

Once again, he was surprised by her response. Hadn’t they danced this before? Hadn’t she shown him in both sun and shadow how much she enjoyed the kill? “Don’t keep count?” He shook his head, confused and disgusted himself at her response, “Sometimes I just don’t _get_ you. Are you like us, or a little… _different_?”

She shrugged, a burning behind her eyes at his frustration, “Hopefully a little different.”

Nil felt disappointed. He’d hoped that she was coming to recognize that the same beast that sang for the kill in him, sang from within her blood as well- like calling to like. “If that’s what you’re going to tell yourself.” Annoyed at her denial, he hoped that once they began she’d be less evasive. “Shall we get started?”

There was a long look between them, before she gave a sharp nod and turned to look out at the camp. His little hideaway looked over much of it, giving them a good starting angle to watch from. She pointed out the watch towers, giving him instructions to take out the ones on the right while she circled from the left. They would meet at the back entrance, picking off anyone walking the perimeter, then strike from inside the camp itself.

With no further need for discussion, they split off, the soft whistle of arrows and the satisfying _thunk_ of hitting the target the only sound he could hear above the rustle of the wind and grass. He was always amazed that the enemy was so easily taken by surprise. How did they not smell the blood in the air? How could they not feel the tingle of electricity as death stalked among their numbers? How did they not hear the soft gasp that came just as the arrow pierced the heart? These signs of the hunt assaulted his senses and made his blood rush through his veins just as surely as he made it rush out of his prey. By the time he had finished his part and met the huntress on the other side of the camp, his body was a bowstring pulled tight, ready to unleash on whatever mark he was given. And when she slid beside him in the grass, silent and ready, the smell of blood and death that hung on her skin made his whole attention shift from the bandits, to her.

Savage.

Her hair in braids, as red as if it was stained with blood from birth, gave her the look of a wild beast. The beads of sweat that rolled slowly down her skin picked up a tinge of red as they passed over fresh bloodspray before dripping down onto stain the hide and metal armor she wore. Her weapons were as deadly and wild as she was, cobbled together from bits of machine and stained with recent blood. There was no way to look at this woman and think she was from anywhere civilized.

Savage.

Her lips curled into a snarl and her eyes narrowed as one of the bandits shuffled past the gate. With deadly precision, she leapt out of the grass and drove her spear through his back, pulling it and her prey against her chest and covering his mouth with her hand until he slumped against her- dead. Nil slipped in beside her, arrow drawn already and piercing through the eye of the next target, just as he turned at the noise of his companion’s death. The huntress shook the bandit off her spear, and disappeared into a makeshift hut, a trail of blood from her last victim leading Nil to her. She crouched in the hut, listening, waiting, for the patrol to pass so they could move into the next area. Blood covered her front, and as she wiped sweat from her eye, it smeared across her face. There was a slight movement in the corner, and he realized that someone had been alive in here a moment before- red spilling from their slit throat and their eyes glazing over as they groped at the gaping wound. The huntress didn’t even acknowledge the bandit- her whole concentration already on the next kill.

Savage.

Unable to stop himself, blood pounding in his ears and the last breath of the kill whispering on the breeze, he pounced. Unprepared, she did not move to protect herself until he already had her pinned against the wall, both still half crouched, and was pressing his advantage by claiming her blood-stained lips for his own. The metallic taste, the startled gasp, the momentary struggle against him- it only fanned the flames higher. His hands found purchase at the back of her neck and her hip, pulling her body against his with a violent jerk. There was a moment when he wondered if this would be his last - ended with a knife slid between his ribs for the transgression. Instead, she snarled beneath him and shoved back- but her mouth never left his and he found himself pinned to the opposite wall, the huntress clawing at his shoulders and biting his lip as they stood. Her teeth slid down his neck, biting at the soft place just below his ear, the delicious pain of it making him groan. One of her hands slid over his mouth to silence him- the same as the first bandit she brought down at the gate. He could smell the death still clinging to her skin.

Snarling, he grabbed her hips and flipped their positions around, pushing her back against the hut wall so hard it shuddered and bark rained down on them, unnoticed. Wasting no time, Nil tugged at the laces of her pants even as she was doing the same to his. Mouthing along her jaw, he nipped at her ear, growling as he felt her calloused fingers wrap around him and pull him free. With the clothes out of the way, his hands went to her thighs, picking her up easily and pushing her against the wall- uncaring if it could take the weight or not. Her legs wrapped around his waist and her teeth sunk into the meat of his neck. A savage grin crossed his face and he shoved into her, making them both gasp and shudder.

Iron and salt mingled, dripping down their skin leaving a pink tinged path behind. With each thrust she trembled and he groaned. Her head fell to his shoulder, breath panting hot down his chest. He grinned, whispering in her ear, “ _This_ , my huntress, is what you want.” One hand wrapped around her waist, holding her in place as each thrust pushed here against the wall. The other hand slid under her armor, finding one of her pert nipples and tugging it until she whimpered. “The smell of blood and fear surrounding us. The cooling bodies behind us. The knowledge that your prey is only a few steps away, waiting to meet your knife.” He gave a particularly brutal push, pulling out to just the tip before slamming into her again with a grunt, “How could you deny it? The hunt. The _kill_. It sings to you. To us both.” He could feel her body tensing, muscles straining and trembling under his touch. Her moans were barely muffled against his skin anymore, and her legs pulled him deeper into her. She was coming undone. He was making her lose control.

As if she could hear his very thoughts, her head snapped back and her hard eyes met his- burning. In a move he was later surprised didn’t kill him, she swung one leg off his hip and pushed backwards against the wall, shoving them both to the ground with enough force to knock the wind from him and leave him dazed. Swimming back to the surface of thought, he realized that she now straddled his hips, riding him with fierce determination and savage beauty. He could feel the sting of the ground in the wounds she’d left on his back, and the throb of bruises forming from the fall- but he reveled in it. Any wound was worth this view- his beautiful savage taking pleasure from him in the middle of a killing field. Sharp heat coiled like a hot wire in his gut. He watched with rapt fascination as her eyes fluttered closed, her hands fisting the edge of his chestplate, her hips slamming down onto him with a punishing brutality.

It was inevitable that the noise they made would draw someone’s attention. Nil almost expected to be run through where they coupled. But some whisper must have caught her attention despite the ecstasy, because one moment she was curled over him, on the precipice of something- and the next her bow was in hand and an arrow flying, finding its home deep in the gut of one of the bandits. Even from his odd angle, Nil watched blood bloom through the fabric, surprise and confusion pass over the face of the worm, and the slow tumble of the man as he fell, grasping at the arrow inside him.

By the Sun! His attention returned to his huntress, and he took control once again, flipping them both over so she was beneath him, his hands to either side of her head, one in a pool of cooling blood, the other puddle warm from the fresh kill. She yelped in surprise but quickly arched as he slammed into her, over and over in rapid bursts. Itching to touch her, to feel her burn beneath him, he shifted up so that her knees rested over his hips and he crouched between her legs, still moving within her. Running one hand down her neck and chest, he left a trail of fresh blood over her body. Where it touched skin, she shuddered and groaned. She was so close. He was closer. The sight of her. The smell of her. Monster like him. Savage like her. His fingers dipped to where they were joined and he found the little bud of pleasure that would send her over, circling it once, twice- with a silent cry she arched again like a pulled bow, her body clenching around him pulling him apart just as surely as she came undone herself. He captured that silent scream with his mouth, the kiss starting brutal and bloody but slowing to languid and lazy as they both came down. He wasn’t even sure who’s blood he was tasting anymore. His own, from where she’d bit him- more than once? Hers, from where his teeth had pierced her lip? Their shared prey, painted as they were with it?

With his signature smirk he finally pulled away, amused by the dazed look that still graced her face. “Shall we continue?”

She laughed, shoving at him roughly until he let her up, “I’m surprised the entire camp hasn’t come down around our ears.”

His smirk became a feral grin, “With how quickly you killed that last one, I think we would have been fine.”

Her nose wrinkled in disgust as she sat up, tugging her pants back together and looking at the cooling body at the door. “Ugh-“ her eye snapped to him, “You smeared his blood on me!”

He laughed, standing and pulling his clothes and armor back into place, “You can’t deny the thrill of all this. Not after all of _that._ ”

She sneered, pulling herself back together and readying her weapons, “Just don’t think this means I enjoyed it.” There was something in her eyes that he hadn’t been able to place before, but could recognize it now.

Still grinning, Nil wiped the blood from the edge of her mouth, “Don’t worry. We’ll take your secret to their grave.”

And there it was- the savage grin just before she flitted out to finish the hunt.

Savage- his savage. Silent as the midnight shadows, blazing as the midday sun. Oh how he looked forward to their next hunt! The smell of death, blood, and sex was now forever twined with the images of her running her spear through a man or coming apart beneath him. Yes, she was the perfect partner for him. How glorious it would be when it all came to an end…

 

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh, I wish I was better at drawing people- I have the visual of Nil pushing Aloy against the wall stuck in my head and I desperately want to draw it!
> 
> I think I'll be doing a lot more writing for this fandom now. Don't forget to leave a kudo or comment to let me know you liked it! For smaller/newer fandoms like this, it's always nice to know someone actually read what you wrote.


End file.
